


BLAZE

by laterie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blood, Everything is cold or too hot, M/M, Passive-aggression, Space Mall, Space Pirates, and a lot of different spots, don't expect fanon Keith, happiness exists, i think, they love each other more than you can imagine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-23 18:02:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13195596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laterie/pseuds/laterie
Summary: It's not like Keith's burned out. He just gave Shiro everything he had, and now, wandering across the universe, Shiro's trying to save what's left of Keith.





	1. Are we forlorn?

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I'm trying something new, but I don't know if I should continue or just let it go as a one shot.

That night Shiro opened his eyes to see the dark ceiling. 

Shiro wished for a window in his room. Also, he hoped for the void behind the glass to be real, so he could try to break the window and see if he’s truly safe, that the ship has a purpose; the walls are here to protect him because someone cares. 

Shiro closed his eyes back knowing there was nothing to expect. And then, he felt as Keith moved from his side.

_Oh god, someone cares_

When Shiro closed his eyes tightly, the world behind his lids turned into red and orange. He felt the burning heat coming through the mattress, duvet, and blankets. His lungs began to fill with hot air, forcing him to open his eyes again. The fire had captured Shiro’s bed like hungry tongues of a seven-headed dragon.

The flames were getting higher and higher, eating the bed from the right side where Keith was lying before. Shiro turned his head to see the fire. He quickly came to the fact, that he couldn’t move his right arm nor the rest of his body except his head. But what Shiro saw was enough for him to understand that it was probably his bionic arm that set the bed on fire. The flames danced in his eyes like wild fairies. And then, he noticed as his metallic fingers began melting slowly.

Shiro’s lips parted in a silent question: _am I dreaming?_ He didn’t feel any pain. The burning sensation on his skin had no power, was asking for no meat. Everything felt surreal, like a painting of an abstract sunset on a canvas larger than the entire sky. He felt almost dead, like a fish out of water.

Shiro’s eyes widened in surprise when he felt a touch on his arm. The contact made him realize that nothing from what was happening is a dream. It was Keith who had wrapped his fingers around Shiro’s left biceps and forcefully jerked him to the edge of the bed. Since Shiro couldn’t move, Keith had to deal with his full body weight and used the rest of his strength to get him on the floor. Shiro’s broken prosthetic arm hit the ground first with a loud thud followed by the rest of his body.

When Shiro’s body hit the cold floor, he had to fell right on his soul that abandoned him, because right after the fall, his body awoke from the muscle paralyze. He inhaled sharply. The extreme amount of air Shiro took into his lungs stretched his ribcage painfully. Shiro finally began to absorb the heat of the flames. Everything was suddenly utterly real, like the crystal clear water terrified Keith was pouring on his mechanical arm.

 _What_ _happened?_ Shiro stared into Keith’s eyes. He stared for a long time but didn’t understand.

 

**

 

Keith had fallen asleep on his stomach, pressed against Shiro’s right arm. He woke up when the fire had already burned all hair on his arm and flames started to create holes in the fabric of his tank top. He immediately rolled down from the bed, getting rid of the shirt. For Keith, it wasn’t just a moment, but thousands of seconds that split open the floor and made a gap between him and the jug of water standing on the nightstand right beside Shiro. Keith hadn‘t noticed that Shiro’s body, except his arm, reminded untouched by the blaze. In one second he thought about hell, and in his second step, he was dragging Shiro on the floor, cooling his melting arm.

How could an ordinary fire damage Shiro’s bionic arm?

How?

And why the fire alarm didn’t work? 

That night Keith died the fifth time in five years.

When Coran burst into the room with a fire extinguisher, Keith felt almost melted on Shiro’s abnormally hot body. He closed his eyes, focusing on Shiro’s breathing. The heat was too intense and heavy like a blanket; too hot for Shiro to be alive.

_How? What? But how?!_

Keith had no answer for Coran. He wished there was a clear explanation. He wanted to be sure, certain and passive about what happened like it was the most normal thing. Nothing was ordinary, and nobody even tried to act like it was.

 

**

 

Keith had second-degree burns on his right biceps.  

The box sized healing pod had failed to heal Keith’s burns. Coran tried every setting on the machine, but nothing was working. After all those failures, Allura decided that the best cure has mother nature in her hands. She held her lips sealed while mixing the ingredients for an iointment additive only watching Keith at the corner of her eye as he waited without moving. After she prepared the cure and applied it on Keith’s injured shoulder, she turned her attention to Shiro and Coran. Incidents like this one have never happened before. With her head full of thoughts Allura bandaged Keith’s biceps trying not to ply him with questions.

She could only hope that this time Keith will cooperate.   

Right next to Keith was a table with instruments and two chairs. Shiro didn’t need to lay down on the bed because Coran found no injuries on his body. He took one of the chairs, patiently waiting for a signal from his dead right arm still plugged into a computer. Coran was shortly back with a small device in his palm. When he started to explain the purpose, for the first time Shiro dared to look at Keith. Nothing has changed since they came to the infirmary. Keith was still sitting on the bed and watching the floor without a single move.

“This little friend is connected to the central computer. It will monitor your life functions. If something happens, we’ll know it immediately. And it’s water-resistant and fashionable!“ After Coran plastered the small instrument on Shiro’s neck, he stepped aside with hands behind his back.

“Dude I can’t believe you almost set yourself on fire.” Hunk was still shaking from the shock. He stood in the corner of the room, leaning against a wall.

“I mean you often set yourself on fire because of Keith, but this was stupid,“ he added frowningly, “did you played that famous temperature game?“

“I can’t believe how stupid men sometimes are,“ Pidge commented on Lance’s remark.

“But it was more like you tried to set Keith on fire.” Hunk rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Of course, he wouldn’t think that Shiro was capable of such thing. He never asked, but Shiro’s strange relationship with Keith had made it quite clear that Keith is irreplaceable for Shiro.

At the other side of the room, Keith nervously closed his eyes. He wished they would all shut the hell up right after Hunk started to talk. More than about his arm, Keith cared about Shiro’s one. The damage to his prosthetic was significant. Keith didn’t want to listen to who’s the criminal when Shiro was present with them between the same four walls.

“I can’t extract data from your arm, Shiro. The sectors are too damaged.“ Pidge confessed carefully.

“The amputation is not impossible,“ Allura folded her arms, “we can try it. With the help of Blades, we can create safer and better model.“

“Allura, we've already talked about this,“ Keith replied after a long time, “we don’t know what would happen to Shiro if we take off his prosthetic.“

“We should ask before we cut his arm off,“ Pidge looked at Shiro, “let’s give Kolivan a call. Let Blades look at the damage.“

“I’m with Pidge,“ Huk nodded and looked at Lance who seemed slightly unimpressed by all the opinions.

“Alright, but...“ he paused, “maybe it would be better if Shiro gets rid of that evil instrument. It tried to kill him!“

Ignoring the passionate debate among the others, Keith looked at Shiro who was staring at his destroyed arm. He couldn’t even move it. What was worse, his galra tech arm was heavier when it was off. Shiro had problems to walk without the support of a can.

Keith stood up and hissed when he moved his injured limb. He knew Shiro is blaming himself for what happened in his bedroom. But Keith also understood that the guilt was relative. He didn’t believe Shiro would set the bed on fire willingly.

Shiro suffered every day of his life since the enemy had kidnapped him five years ago and forced him to fight for his life in the arena. Now it was Shiro who seemed to be _the_ broken soldier. The abuse took a massive part of his life, where just a moment appeared like a whole eternity. After all, he had always been; scattered on the floor like thousands of pearls.

Keith crouched before Shiro. He put both of his bare palms on Shiro’s knees and looked at his torso. He tried to concentrate on his feelings, but his inside held a stubborn silence. No anger, not even sadness, only frozen plains.

It was _already_ too much five years ago. Now it felt like every year lasted thousands of days.

“I felt something strange when you dragged me on the floor,“ Shiro whispered, looking at his human hand.

“What was it?“ Keith curled his fingers around Shiro’s.

“Life.“

 _Life_ could be many things: stress running through Shiro’s veins after he realized what was happening. The wild beating of his heart, the fear of death. And so he could go on. Keith tightened his grip on Shiro’s fingers. Both of them had been on the brink of the demise, but the only hormone punching his head with a hammer was fear. Every step and every gesture of his hands were controlled by the worst anxiety attack he ever experienced.

They could burn alive. Die in the bed, not in a fight.

He could die by Shiro’s hand.

“When you hauled me out of bed on the floor,“ Shiro leaned closer to Keith, “your hands were cold. Everything was on fire, the air was hot, I felt like I was melting, but your hands were cold.“

Confused by Shiro’s words, Keith bowed his head. He felt as the previously mentioned cold grasped him again. Even now Keith’s hands and feet were freezing and absorbing Shiro’s heat. Maybe the abnormality wasn’t reflecting Shiro’s body heat, but Keith who was freezing straight from his core.

Keith looked at Shiro scrupulously but immediately dropped his gaze back. A long time ago, he noticed that where Shiro finds life, he finds only death. Maybe Keith died on the bed, consumed by the burning madness. Or perhaps, just perhaps, at the very last moment, he forced his soul into Shiro’s collapsing body to keep him alive.

In any case, he was dead.

He had to be.

“Whatever is happening, we’re gonna make it,“ Keith said very quietly, “I promise.“ He lowered his head into Shiro’s lap.

Keith didn’t know whether the smoke from the bedroom had gotten into his brain and made him feel it everywhere, or Shiro’s skin had turned into lava, and now his existence was slowly evaporating. He even felt a similar heat of his body like before in Shiro’s room. The smell reminded him of dry leaves. The notable difference between their body temperature was alarming again. Keith pressed his cheek against Shiro’s thigh, doing it solely for the pleasant warmth. He didn’t know too much about anatomy, but certainly, he could say, that one of them is probably dying.

Shiro raised his hand and carefully brushed Keith’s bangs from his forehead. He watched his hand, worrying he would hurt him again by just touching the skin. When Shiro ran his fingers over Keith’s cold cheek, a crazy idea crossed his mind like an arrow. What if he’s absorbing Keith’s life? Keith already gave him more than a human could afford. His devotion has filled the universe. What remained of the pulsing core inside Keith’s body was now only a small white star.

_Someone cares_

“I almost burned you to death,” Shiro’s whispered. His eyed wandered on the tray with instruments. He couldn’t control his heart anymore. Pain astringed his insides, pulling and tearing apart. Right now Shiro felt like he’s on fire again. Nothing, absolutely nothing was worth Keith’s pain. He wished he could erase the past and control their future.

No tears, no heartache.

He took too much from Keith and wasn’t able to return not even half of it. Shiro closed his eyes taking a deep breath. Keith’s soft hair was swimming between his fingers while Shiro tried to empathize with him. What happened during the five last years that Keith had to die every one year like a tree in winter? The man’s heart became weaker every time, and Shiro couldn’t stop thinking about his absurd theory of stealing Keith’s life-power.  

_Keith cares_

 

**

 

         “What happened to you?“ Allura confronted Keith right after Hunk walked Shiro into Keith’s room. She held the gaze of an unbreakable leader.

Sitting in a chair, Keith spread his legs wide. He looked at his boots and then threw his head back leaning it against the chair. Everybody asked him the same question, but Keith had no answer. He didn’t know if Allura thought that he’s hiding something from others.

The silence between him and Allura has stretched like a web through the whole infirmary. Keith cracked his fingers, ignoring the pain in his injured arm. Honestly, he had no strength to talk about the _burning beds_ incident. Keith didn’t even want to see the reason because it might make him admit that something is wrong with Shiro. Something not even he can fix.

And so Keith faded away.

“You should talk about what is happening,” she said turning in between the door frames before she left, “you’re distancing yourself from us.”

And Allura went silent.

“Distancing.” The word left hanging on his lips like an amen.


	2. Counting has started

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [LP - Muddy Waters ♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ss8t7a8n0U4)

Keith looked down at his left, bandaged hand. He was preparing for a match with Hunk. It took Keith hours to convince him to agree with few rounds in the training hall. The vast problem Hunk had has occurred Keith’s wounded shoulder. Only two weeks have passed since the incident in Shiro’s bedroom. But knowing that Keith would use the droids for training, Hunk decided that the best way how to protect Keith from gaining another injury was trying to go along with him. It wasn’t difficult for Keith to calculate the right moves and pull Hunk to his side. Sitting on the bench now, Keith tore away his look from his hand. He took another roll of boxing bandages and wrapped it around his right hand.

Since there was nothing Keith could get into, he came to the training hall an hour earlier than he should have. Alone with his thoughts, he kept looking at his forearms, eyes tracing the bulging veins. Strength, control, and patience, all these things he saw in his overworked arms reflected Shiro who was twelve days deep in tests on the Marmora base. Of course, Kolivan had to kick Keith out after twenty-three hours. It was nothing personal. Kolivan held no rage against Keith and his selfish decision to leave Marmora only because of Shiro. He always knew Keith would never stay. But this time, it took Keith not even a day to get into a fight with Kolivan who called him _an impulsive bastard._

_“Shiro came here because he needs our help. And the first thing you do is, that you fight everyone. They can’t touch him or talk to him or else you start freaking out. Get yourself together or get out!”_

And so Keith tried, but he failed.

He failed miserably.

What broke the thread of Keith’s thoughts was the ruffle of his hair. Hunk smiled at him, his fingers still entangled in Keith’s raven hair. Keith raised both of his eyebrows looking at Hunk with his head lowered. There was nothing but a storm rumbling in the lavender breeze of Keith’s eyes.

“Let’s take you out of your head, lion.” Hunk drew away.

“You’re early,” Keith stood up from the bench, “but almost prepared as I see.”

Hunk nodded and put both of his already bandaged hands on his hips. Wearing only a black tank top and sweatpants of the same color, Hunk didn’t look prepared for Keith. Not ready for a fight Keith wanted to pull out from his friend. He should wear at least head protector. After all the years they spent together, there was no chance Hunk wouldn’t have predicted Keith’s actual reason behind this small exercise – as Keith had called it before. Just _an exercise._

As Hunk expected, Keith started with a forceful blow. He almost hit his eye two times in a row. Hunk barely managed to make a move against Keith. The man was like a fortune teller; he knew about every prepared step before Hunk could even decide where to hit first. Was he a fool to think that Keith would spare him if he comes unprotected?

“Are you gonna hit me, or dance around me?” Keith turned quickly and hooked Hunk’s forearm between his shoulder and side. He pressed his back to Hunk’s front and fixed him on the spot. Then a series of sharp elbow hits tested Hunk’s abdominal muscles. Hunk clenched his teeth and had to use all the strength to grab Keith around his waist and lifted him from the floor. He twisted Keith around and swiftly tossed him on the ground.

“Wrong move, lion!” Hunk cracked his neck and leaned forward, laying his palms on his knees. “Are you trying to get your ass kicked?”

Keith was already on his feet. He fell right on his injured shoulder, but he was not going to flinch. A little pain was nothing compared to what was happening in his head.

“No, just wanted to poke the sleeping bear.” Keith stretched his arms above his head and got onto his tiptoes to regain his balance back. If he were allowed to use his legs, Hunk would have a much bigger problem to protect himself. But Hunk always has been a hard-hitting person; an armored wall when Keith wanted to break Lance into two small; the peacemaker when the paladins’ nerves almost reached a point of no return. Hunk was a man who balanced the team.

Hunk was better than Keith. At least Keith thought so.

But, who was not better than him? Keith had no answer.

“You’re back in your head, Keith.”

For a second Keith looked flustered. It wasn’t difficult to understand what caused his small lapse. When it came to missions, Keith was unbreakable, he chased the spirits to the very end, but after he finished the work, Keith started to lose his grip. His mind filled thoughts about his personal life, about future and his worse nightmare: _what if I manage to survive and get old? What if I end up old and alone?_ But at this moment, Keith found himself hauled back in his head because he started to count. What if Shiro is in flames and Kolivan just lied to him?

_One_

_Two_

_Three_

 “What do you need is a talk, not fight.” Hunk let his guard down.

“I already tried—”

“And have failed, I know.”

 _Then what?_ Keith stood still, waiting for Hunk to decide if he wants to resume the fight or give him another heartbreaking speech. Keith’s hands balled into tight fists. He was already full of words and meaningless advice. No words could fit the already written book. He desired only to break his skin and bleed them out so he could listen without feeling like he’s deaf.

_Four_

“I see,” Hunk nodded understanding the issue, “then let’s continue.”

_Fiv-e_

Keith’s feet moved. He ran into Hunk, punching him in the face with his left fist. And that was all. No defense, no other attack, no gasping and no other words. Keith just blew off his five numbers, five seconds of waiting for Shiro into Hunk’s face.

Who would have said that the fastest attack Hunk ever experienced would be demonstrated by his good friend and colleague? The universe was again full of surprises.

And here all have decided, that something’s not alright with Keith.

_Only five seconds of eleven days._

 

**

 

         Of course, Keith was sorry. He wanted his blood on his hands, not blood of his friends. So the rest of the evening he spent apologizing for Hunk’s broken lip and swollen cheek. The Yellow Paladin only smiled, then hissed because of the pain and wrapped his arm around Keith’s shoulders. Leading Keith through the hall, Hunk suggested playing a game on Pidge’s console.

“You can kick some pixel butts.” Hunk tugged him by the sleeve of his shirt.

“Yeah, that was not the point,” Keith sighed, “that’s even worse because you know that I’m not good at games. I don’t want to break the console. Lance will skin me alive.”

“That’s fine. I know a game that anybody can rule.” Hunk was too sure about himself when he led his nervous friend to the Game room.

“You act like a character from a horror movie when Shiro’s not around. You know what I mean? The main character who has to get through all the shit to save the love of his life.” That was the last thing Keith wanted to hear, but Hunk was right.

Eleven days without Shiro made him too vulnerable. He couldn’t hide his affectionate anymore. Except for fighting, he had no hobbies. While the universe was still and almost frozen in time, Keith had an effect of an extreme fast orbiting moon. A restless and colorless paladin.

The room, unfortunately, was occupied by grumbling Lance. They black joystick in his hands was flying from side to side while the hero in the game was following the orders. Keith still couldn’t understand how these crazy moves of Lance’s arms should help to defeat the evil dragons. Who in their right mind would even like to kill dragons?

“This is why you’re not a good pilot, no matter how many years pass.” Keith just poked the most sensitive spot on Lance’s body.

“Are you that self-destructive?!” Lance dropped the controller on the floor, deadpanned. “Keith I swear to god, you want to die.”

“And the winner advances to the next round,” a voice came right from the dark corner behind the paladins’ back.

“Pidge!” it was Hunk who jumped and prepared his for a fight, “no surprises anymore!”

“I’m just trying to help!” Keith raised his voice in defense, “I’ve offered him to—”

“No thank you! No again! I said no!” Lance stood up, “I don’t want!”

“You don’t want to _what?_ ” asked Hunk curiously.

“Keith has offered him piloting lectures, but Lance being Lance, refused. He called it _mullet style piloting._ ” Pidge placed a small laptop on her lap and turned it on. The blue glowing aura flooded her face like a wave.

“I don’t even wear mullet anymore!” Keith retorted, “he’s just too fucking proud.” A year has passed since he changed his hairstyle from the mullet to side-swept undercut.

While Shiro was crying invisible tears because he thought he would never ruffle the soft hair again, the morning after, Keith has woke up with the cutest bedhead. Shiro then only pressed his nose to Keith’s exposed nape and smiled with words: _Suddenly I like it._

“Dude,” Hunk turned to Lance, “you’re a great pilot, you _really_ are. You are my best friend forever, Lance...” He paused for a second to emphasize the next line: “but Keith just wants to help you. I know how is it when he does the backseat piloting. It’s annoying as hell, but at least he’s trying to help and maybe show you some tricks you know? You pilot the Red Lion.”

“So what?!” Lance put his hands on his hips, leaning forward, “I don’t need any lectures. It’s my style! It’s my style of piloting! So fuck off! Both of you!” The angry expression disarmed Hunk. His face softened.

“That’s not what I was talking about,” nervously, Keith rubbed his forehead, “dammit Lance! I’m trying to _do_ something. Anything!”

Pidge, who was just watching patiently as their friends are jumping on each other’s neck lowered her head back to the laptop. _Help_ that was a word Keith used only when it was _he_ who needed the help. No matter how much he tried to control his surrounding, it was always he, who closed himself into a pyramid in the middle of his deserted mind.

She almost felt like a stalker while watching Keith’s every step. Before Shiro left for the Marmora base, she promised him to take care of Keith. _He needs you, guys. Please._ His look has engraved the words into her brain. Each time she spotted Keith just pacing around, like a bird unable to fly, her lugs has tightened around her heart.

“I wish I didn’t have to say this, but,” she typed few words and closed the computer, “Lance, you’re slow again.”

“What?!” Lance was surprised by his friends who teamed up with Keith against him.

“I think we need to set this clear!” Pidge looked at Keith, “and I am sorry if after this you’ll feel betrayed.”

 _No._ Keith wanted to yell. The verbal vomit on his tongue provoked him to spit out the venom. He would hurt them all, and it would take him only a minute. How should he explain that there’s nothing wrong with a man who was born to defend the universe? He was build to absorb the stress, pain, and fear in such depth that he already has forgotten what had started the madness.

_“You were born to protect.”_

“I don’t need help, Pidge.”

 _Cool,_ she thought and shrugged: “There’s a difference between perceiving yourself and how others perceive you.”

If God created the universe in silence then why people call it _big bang?_ Keith spent his life looking for peace until he got lost and silence started to drum on his nerves. Being alone was not different from being dead. If there was nobody to care, no witness, then there also was nobody who could say he’s alive.

“Hunk understands it, that’s why he let you destroy his face,” she added, “I understand that’s why I’m saying what I’m saying knowing that you’ll probably come to hate me.”

“Say it!” Lance stepped up into the conversation, “just say it Pidge.”

“Keith you entered the self-destructive path.” It was not easy for Pidge. Hell, she felt like pushing Keith to an even greater distance. Instead of pulling him into an embrace she kicked him down the stairs – level down.

“You have not talked to us properly since the fucking blade of Marmora trial! It was five years ago! Since then you’re blocking us! You know what Shiro told me before he left?” If Shiro’s name was the so-called great weapon in Pidges armory, then it definitely worked on Keith. He visibly softened and relaxed. Lance could see that he’s fighting the desolation in his mind.

“Look,” Lance said calmly, “I understand that you need to occupy your mind while Shiro’s gone, but do it in a friendly manner. We are a family, not enemies. You don’t have to fight us.” He threw up his hands. “I’m honestly surprised that Hunk can even talk after you punched him. Then you came here and insulted me. Maybe I’m slow, but give me some time, and I will understand and accept it.”

Five years was enough for Keith to create a bubble around himself. He ended up with a restless syndrome – A hero without his cause was just an ordinary human, and as an average human, Keith was always lonely. Knowing that he probably hurt his friends intentionally, Keith balled himself into an even thicker blanket of self-condemnation.

“This is something we can solve only by words.” Pidge stood up from the floor. “Shiro asked me to take care of you and I will. I’ve been watching you for some time. I didn’t intervene because he did a great job to keep you right in your mind.”

“look!” Keith interrupted her, “all I need is, to go back to Blades and be with Shiro. I’m just keeping myself worried that’s all. Are you not worried?”

“Of course we are,” Hunk expression softened again, “we all are.”

Keith looked at his friends and lingered to the door, “of course you _are._ ” He turned and opened the door with such force that they hit the wall. Keith was gone before anyone could protest.

“He’ll try to sneak out at night.” Lance sighed.

“I know,” Pidge frowned, “ _I know.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like it, leave a comment :)


	3. How long is now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter in two days. I tried to be fast but I didn't get it complete before my Grammarly premium account has ended. You might find some errors. I am sorry. I tried. Now when my account is not premium anymore, I don't know what's going to happen with this story.

_Lack of responsibility._

Keith needed a break. In the whole damned universe, there was not a place where he could stay. Floating around with no roots and lot of regrets, Keith felt he’s a prison in his life, in his own body. What his friends called _running away,_ Keith called _the beginning._ For a man who never had the opportunity to even be free in his head, the universe was lousy, and if he could, he would spit on it and break its neck. The beauty of flying disappeared for Keith the moment he had learned that he has to deserve the touch of infinity. If Hunk stayed with him, watching the cold crisps nebulas, he always said how dangerous the life around them is. Keith found it fascinating. He wished to absorb the streams of consciousness into his veins and melt with the void behind the glass.

Ever since Shiro left for Blades, Keith had a strong desire to get destroyed, punched and scratched everywhere. He remembered the last night he spent with Shiro on Blade base. Next morning Shiro was gone, and Keith felt like a nightstand. He smiled, sprawled on the blanket in the middle of the observatory. As always, Shiro didn’t leave a single trace. The whole lovemaking could have been the same as a dream. And maybe after Shiro disappeared from his sight, he also stopped to exist.

_“Embrace it,” Shiro whispered, “touch it.”_

_Shiro kneeled behind Keith who was sitting in front of the wall-sized window in the Blade of Marmora temporary station. He took Keith’s left hand, caressed his slim fingers with his thumb and straightened them._

_“Think about the glass as about a protection,” he whispered into Keith’s ear. Then he pressed Keith’s palm against the cold mineral. “It’s just like us.” He nuzzled Keith’s ear, “when we make love.”_

_“I don’t need protection when I’m with you,” Keith breathed out his words like a dark spell. He felt his lungs fill with cold air._

_“Yes, you do.”_

_“It’s cold,” Keith curled up in his lover’s arms, his hand still on the glass, “it’s always cold in here.”_

_“Universe is cold.” Shiro rested his head on Keith’s shoulder._

_“How long are you gonna be out like this?”_

_Shiro didn’t reply. He could feel invisible eyes on his back. The room stretched behind them into darkness allowing the hell descent to invade their safety. Shiro’s body felt like a shield, pressed tightly against Keith’s, keeping him in safety and warm._

_“In one year,” Keith watched as Shiro laced their fingers, “we’ll be lost.”_

_Without a word, Shiro brought Keith’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. Keith’s handprint remained on the glass, but there was not even a trace after Shiro._

_“I’ve told you,” Shiro smiled, and Keith could feel the line of his lips curled up against his palm.” It’s like when we make love. You always leave a trace on me.”_

_Then what about Keith? Where were traces from Shiro? His gaze dropped, avoiding the handprint. He slowly turned his head to look at Shiro. He felt the pressure of anticipation pushing him forward. Maybe Shiro was just his prelude, a pleasant dream. Deep down, Keith always felt sick, so sick to even think of himself as normal._

_“Just a year and we wouldn’t be able to help each other anymore.”_

_“Keith,” Shiro wrapped his arms tightly around his partner's waist, “nothing lasts forever. Not even our pain.”_

_“Bullshit.”_

 

A year has passed since Keith learned how to leave traces on the unassailable space. Symptoms of fast fading embraced him and kissed on his cheek like a choosy lover. He might as well start to choke on flowers at this tempo. The level of annoyance brought him only a headache and sick stomach. He was not a scared boy anymore. He learned how to open himself for his beloved one. By borrowing a ship from the Castle, Keith hadn’t wanted to hurt his friends. He just didn’t want to have another _heartbreaking_ conversation. Keith was still wandering in circles in his room, battling with himself. Shiro’s convalescence meant for Keith a responsibility for the Black lion he had to take over. _Yes,_ he was the leader now.

Again.

“Alright,” Keith sighed, defeated by his conscience, “You can’t fight with your friends Keith.”

He moved from the corner of the room and sat on the bed. He pulled out a tablet from under Shiro’s pillow, and by a few touches, he inserted a password for a secret Marmora channel. Waiting and watching the small purple circle hovering above the word: loading, Keith remembered his disagreement with Pidge _. There’s a difference between perceiving yourself and how others perceive you._ Were they scared of him now? Thanks to the last conversation, Keith felt like a crazy person running around their home with a sharp blade behind his belt.

“ _Colorless.”_

It wasn’t funny to hear his made-up nickname from Kolivan’s mouth as soon as the video call popped up on the tablet. He didn’t even have to call him by any names because the ID of the caller was always visible.

“I’m requesting an entry.” Keith stood up from his bed, the tablet still in his hand.

“Impossible.”

“Then I want to rejoin Blades.” He pulled out his suit from the closet.

“For how long? One week?” Kolivan frowned, “this is not a game, Keith. We’re not playing any games here. Your attitude is impertinent!”

“Then I’m sorry.” Keith laid the device on the bedside table. He didn’t realize how haughty he sounded. His mind had closed at one point, the sweet misery of Takashi Shirogane with a broken arm and a broken heart. 

“Your request is denied!” Kolivan disappeared from the screen.

Keith clenched the sides of his tablet. _Denied._ He took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but when he realized that everybody was trying to forbid him to board the base, the anger has won. He slammed the device against the wall. Hitching Shiro’s pillow from the bed, Keith buried his face into the soft texture. He inhaled the sweet and breezy fragrance into his lugs, then held his breath and exhaled slowly.

_Nothing’s going to happen to you, Shiro._

Such a lie. Keith slowly dropped on the bed, the pillow still in his embrace. He tried to get away from his neurotic foolishness imagining the silliest picture. He forced his mind into a small frame, protecting himself from any harm. The smell of Shiro stayed with him in there, unable to escape from the walls. As long as Keith could feel Shiro, he was alive. Shiro was alive.

Nothing happened to Shiro.

 

_“Your look can kill, but inside you’re sweet and melted like a marshmallow in cocoa.”_

_“You melted me.”_

Keith had no idea how long time left him hanging in the bubble where only thoughts were allowed. He looked almost frozen, just sitting and staring at the floor. Keith imprisoned himself into an unfinished symphony, with intent to finish what someone else started. He wanted to create, eat and throw away the symphony just for Shiro. He was not a composer though, but he could draw a picture. There he was, sitting on the bed, trying to occupy his mind with something else, but still doing it for Shiro. When nothing was coming into his brain, he decided to reach deeper.

Keith closed his eyes. He pictured a calm ocean and blue sky. The light was penetrating the cold water and oxygen had transformed into waves. And then he saw himself motionless. He couldn’t feel or touch the water. Within a second Keith has found himself chained at the bottom of the sea. He felt so unable, so cold and wicked to feel _normal_ again. Where was that Keith who risked all for his friends? He couldn’t sink any deeper, so he waited and waited until he drowned in his Ocean Symphony.

_Six_

_Seven_

_Eight_

The door opened, and Lance walked inside, irritation wroten deep inside his eyes. He slapped Keith’s left shoulder and pressed his tabled against Keith’s chest. Confused, Keith tilted his head, looking at Lance who dared to cross the mental line.

“I knocked!” Lance said apologetically, “seven times. I have punched the door.”

With a sight, Keith finally took the tablet into his hands. A purple inscription blinked on the screen: _On hold._ The ID belonged to Kolivan. Just a few numbers and letters. He had no nerves for another call.

“What does he want?”

“It’s Shiro.” Lance cut off any other complains from Keith. “He calls because he’s worried about you.”

Lance left after these words. But what he had left before he did, was the unspoken question on Keith’s tongue: _am I worrying him?_ The frame broke, and the symphony escaped. Keith felt spread wildly on the surface of the room. So tiny and large, so fragile.

He tapped the screen, to reveal Shiro’s impatient face. _How rare_ Keith thought and for a second he thought he remembered how to smile again. The only thing Keith had never forget, no matter what distance have divided them, was how beautiful Shiro was. He painted a brand new picture in his head; then he put it into a beautiful silver frame.

 _“Hey,”_ Shiro smiled, “ _how’s my muffin?”_

Keith closed his eyes. Oh, how he this nickname was annoying him. Shiro used it when he was trying to be funny or lightened the mood. However, there was no place for being offensive. Keith was happy he could replace a pillow with Shiro. As stupid as it sounded in his head, it was real – a child sincerity about things and people kids love with the most innocent and honest love.

“A bit crunchy,” Keith decided to join the game.

 _“I see,_ _“_ Shiro shifted on the chair, “ _Kolivan told me you wanted to visit me.”_

“Well, _yeah._ ” He admitted. “But you know, I was a bit asshole back there, and he denied me.”

 _“I am fine, Keith.”_ Shiro promised, _“you don’t have to worry about me. I am in good hands.”_

Sick scenery ran in front of Keith’s eyes. The spiral of anger mixed with fear and forlorn. How depressed his inside seemed to be for his friends if he, could see the bloody spiral in his neck. He couldn’t swallow, and if he managed to, the bitter feeling was sinking too slow and too long, leaving Keith to think that he’s getting insane too fast. How long is now anyway?

“So you don’t need me anymore?” Keith asked, his throat dry.

_“I always need you and always miss you.”_

It was written in Shiro’s cold steel eyes. The only warmth he ever carried in his heart. _I love you._ Keith asked by negating his personality. He wanted Shiro to prove him wrong. _Oh no, you are worthy, and I love you._ It was a miserable way how to feel valued.

“How’s your arm?”

 _“Actually,”_ Shiro remembered, _“You are the first who’s gonna see my brand new Blade of Marmora arm! Take a good look, and no photos, please! It’s a secret!”_ he laughed and slowly started to raise his right arm. _“Are you prepared for the shock?”_

“Shiro, come on. It’s not going to make fireworks or create wormholes.”

 _“How’d you know?”_ Shiro’s mouth left hanging, but the spark in his eyes revealed him.

“Come on, Shiro.” Keith scratched the back of his skull.

 _“No, until you smile.”_ Shiro chuckled, “ _my arm, my rules.”_

“Sunshine, I’m happy to see you, but I don’t want to pull the fake on you.” Keith felt his heart sinking down, replacing stomach with how much acid he carried inside.

The corners of Shiro’s mouth dropped. He leaned his chin on his palm. _“Well then, how about I make you smile, hm?”_

“Come back, that would make me smile.”

Shiro nodded and leaned against his chair. He looked at the side as if he was controlling something or someone. Keith’s eyes were still running down, trying to take a glimpse of Shiro’s new prosthetic, but the man on the other side only grinned and shook his head.

_“I’ll tell you a joke a good one this time. I’ll try to make you smile.”_

A stubborn man. It would be a whole easier to take a ship and break into the base. But that would be the last thing Keith would do. Blades don’t take prisoners.

„Just allow me to come,“ Keith demanded.

 _„Keith,“_ Shiro’s voice lowered _, „We’ve talked about this already. Self-discipline.“_

„Fuck my self-discipline! You know better than anyone else that I’m not capable. I am who I am! Inpatient and repressed.“ There was no problem with self-care or discipline. Keith drew a line for the invisible discipline guy In his head. Keith’s character wasn’t build to take authorities, not even from himself. He couldn’t order to stay when he knew he had to leave. He didn’t choose the path; the path has dragged him down into the dust.

“Before you start—“

 _“People are ambivalent about you.”_ Shiro tilted his head back, watching the ceiling with gentle eyes. “ _Others don’t see you the same as I do and that’s alright. You have opened for me, not for them. I respect that. I unfolded you slowly because I wanted to know you, to show you how amazing you are. What I’m talking about here…”_ he paused, still looking at the ceiling.

_Nine_

_Ten._

“Shiro I love you,” Keith interrupted him, “I love you, and that’s all that has to be said. I can’t tell you how much, or what you meant to me. I just love you. _Love you._ ”

As Shiro said before, Keith felt again as he’s unfolding right before Shiro’s eyes. Though they didn’t speak about the incident with Shiro’s arm, both of them knew, that Keith’s confession also included words too dangerous.

_No matter what, I love you._

And while Shiro tried to ignore the fact that Keith would die for him, the latter just kept going forward and losing pieces of his soul on the road. _Oh,_ how destroyed had Shiro felt before Keith reached for him and fit into the missing parts.

 _“You need to rest.”_ Shiro leaned forward.

“I’m twelve days without you, with no case. I’m just…” Keith had to stand up, getting nervous by every word. “I have nothing to do.”

_“You’re the Black Paladin now.”_

“Yeah, that’s all I’m good for, to substitute a color.” Now Keith was pacing lazily, feet rubbing against the carpet.

 _“I_ _heard how Kolivan is calling you.”_ Shiro frowned and again looked to the left side, “ _and I’m not good with the term.”_

“It doesn’t matter.”

_“It matters to me. It matters to us.”_

Keith whined – unadulterated frustrated. He almost fell on his butt like a headstrong child. Kolivan’s nickname for him was indeed stupid, and it irritated him, but knowing Kolivan, he was sure Kolivan did it as an inconspicuous act of revenge. The deeper he was immersed in his head, the faster his arrogant head grow. _Self-discipline_ was objective and respected, but not favorite by the Paladin. Keith had a feeling that if he learned to control the base of his existence, the bones and blood, he would kill the flame that is starving for life and keeps him going forward. The fire that Shiro was trying to cultivate in him was the core of Keith.

_Elven_

_Twelve_

_Thirteen_

“ _Keith,”_ Shiro knocked on the screen, “ _baby I’ll be back tomorrow. I think we can also run the diagnose on the Castle. I don’t need to stay here any longer.”_

Shiro waved with his new arm. He smiled and spread his fingers. _“I think this model is even better. Blades are very…_ ” What made Shiro paused in the middle of his sentence was pouting Keith.

 _“W-what is… are you pouting?”_ Shiro stood up surprised so that Keith could see only his torso and lap.

“Shiro your arm,” Keith smiled before Shiro had the opportunity to see his face. When the man sat back, Keith’s face fell back on the dark scale of pouting.

 _“Do you like it?”_ He moved his fingers.

“It looks almost like a real arm.”

 _“And that’s why you’re pouting? Are you envious?”_ Shiro laughed.

“No – yes! Yes, I’m envious because I wasn’t there.”

 _“But the truth is,”_ Shiro smiled dubiously, “ _they repaired it, and had to remove the cover. I can’t… use it as a weapon anymore. It was Haggar’s magic that breathed life into the piece of metal. Now it’s only…”_

Keith watched as Shiro’s smile faded away. He pressed his palm against the screen desiring for touches. He could take only as much as he allowed himself. There was a thick borderline.

“It doesn’t matter sunshine,” Keith put his hand down, “you’re alright, and that’s the only thing that matter. You’re strong enough, you always have been. With or without the arm.”

Shiro brought both of his palms on display. Having two humans arms was a nightmare. It always looked terrible, because it contained the moment Galrans took off his limb. The ultimate weapon his enemy installed into him felt like a virus he had to learn to control. How many times did he wake up with prosthetic glowing into his eyes? How many times did he felt like killing himself with his own hand? Shiro always asked questions about the sanity bud never too loud for people to answer them. Ignoring his nightmares and telling Keith that it has no meaning, led them to a bed in flames and second degree burns on Keith’s shoulder.

 _“I want to go home,”_ Shiro confessed, _“I just…”_ His eyes looked glassy and distanced.

“Shiro…”

 _“I’m sorry, Keith,”_ he whispered, “ _for everything I have done to you.”_

Keith felt how he’s core is melting by the toxicity of years conserved pressure. Even if he wanted to reach and touch Shiro, he couldn’t. Making love to him, was like putting the critical things aside only because they wanted to forget and feel good. Keith’s soul looked like a nuclear power plant.

“It’s not your fault, Shiro.”

 _“How many times are you going to say this? How many times are you going to apologize for my failure?”_ Shiro’s hand balled into tight fists.  

“Shiro, you’re not a—“

 _“I am!”_ He called, looking straight into Keith’s eyes, “ _a failure!”_

“Goddamnit!” Keith didn’t give a heartbeat to his thoughts. He almost trashed the tablet and ran into a wall. “This all is wrong!”

 _“Keith, I’m sorry.”_ Shiro buried his face into palms.

“I am here for you. No matter where are you, no matter what are you doing, I’m always here for you. Just pack up and come home.” It was almost impossible to stay calm and wait. Keith’s legs were already moving to the door.

_“Tomorrow.”_

“Shiro I love you.” He breathed out before Shiro could disconnect the call.

_“Tomorrow, Keith. I’ll make it alright.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked it, leave a comment :)


	4. The cursed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you tried to turn it off and on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The journey begins.

Tomorrow came pretty fast, as one could expect from _tomorrow._ Shiro threw his things into his small, travel bag and bid farewell to Kolivan and the rest of the engineers. Next, he met with two technicians who had promised Shiro that the ship is safe and prepared. While preparing his machine to depart, Shiro overheard them talking about Keith. One of the technicians had problems with Keith while Keith was still an active member of Blades. The small fight was caused by Keith who couldn’t find a way to liking galra technology without feeling guilty.

Keith spent two years in the Marmora headquarters training and learning how to fix alien technologies which were different from Alteans. He took short and intense courses in constructing and developing. Part of the exercise consisted of maintenance. Keith had to learn how to fix his ship on the run. While he had a good start back on the Earth, galra technology was susceptible. Cursing every device that contained the ship, Keith unaware of his dark skills created his own Titanic.  After finishing the training, he asserted that God created humanity to show the universe that _less is sometimes more_.

Once Keith’s ship went through a very heated fight, the system received extensive damages, and Keith let it rot in the hangar. Ale the mechanics and technicians knew that Keith’s little monster is an unstable hybrid. The ship could explode under their hands anytime. They have decided not to touch it and dragged the wreck to the distant corner of their hangar.

The damned piece of metal has become a synonym for _humanity -_ damaged, annoying, cheeky and left behind. But not today, because Shiro had no idea about the cursed ship nobody wanted to touch since _that guy Keith got on everybody’s nerves._

“Tell Keith that this is his ship. The Curse, we fixed it. He’ll know.“ Said the taller technician.

“I’ll tell him,“ Shiro smiled putting his safety-belt on.

 

**

 

Shiro spent the time in cockpit thinking about the most useless things. He even dedicated one flying idea to Slav. Remembering old movies, Shiro was curious, if there is a reality where he was stabbed to death in the shower like Marion in the Psycho movie, and if Norman Bates is a real psychopath there. He would ask Keith when he lands.

But first, he’s going to hug him, kiss him and says  _sorry_  billion times.

His insidious dreams about earthling matters kept coming and bothering him. He didn’t even miss the Earth anymore. Keith always kept telling him that universe is their home. After all, they were the side product of star explosions. Thinking about Keith and the Psycho movie separately, Shiro didn’t catch the warning light on the side of the panel of his ship. And because the audio system refused to cooperate he couldn’t even hear the ship computer complaining about a very bad diagnose provided for the ship by the Blade technicians. Even worse -  when he tried to contact the Castle, he found out the transmitter soul has already fled away to silicon heaven.

Shiro leaned heavily against the pilot chair and sighed. He looked a the control panel thinking about how much he actually hate traveling.  There was no way he could repair a galra technology. But if he had the transmitter, then... _nevermind._

“Let’s just hope nothing had happened, and the Castle fixed its position.“ Shiro checked the rest of the systems. When he looked at the navigation, he spotted another green dot on the screen. He breathed on the glass and wiped it with his hand expecting it to be just a spot.

He was _wrong._

“Are you kidding me?“ He straightened himself, eyebrows knitted in frustration. “That’s a double map!“ He threw his hands in the air, “double map!“

Navigation also appeared broken and dysfunctional. Shiro regretted every smile he gave the two technicians.

He turned the navigation off and on.

Of course, nothing has changed.

He turned the system off and on.

_Fail._

Shiro unfastened his belt and stood up. He unlocked his helmet and placed it on the chair. The ship was a medium fighter-sized, so there was no problem for him to maneuver in the backspace. Shiro opened the tool boxes but finding nothing useful; he started to throw the repair tools on the floor. When his fingers brushed against a polished glass texture, he sighed with relief. He sat on the floor with a small handy tablet and pressed a tiny button on the side of the black frame. It took the device fifty-four seconds to load the system. Shiro spent it by glaring and grimacing at himself on his reflection on the screen.

Purple letters blinked at Shiro and disappeared. Then a big warning screen yelled at him that the battery is low and he should find a cord. All of this was understandable because the system used symbols and pictures. Shiro found the cable in the toolbox and connected it to the control panel. When he wanted to sit down on the chair, he forgot about his helmet. Alarmingly he jumped and bumped his head against the roof of the ship.

Three minutes later when the hellish instrument called tablet finally load the system, Shiro found himself pouting at the Galra letters. He had been learning the language together with Keith, but these were more specific – technical. But he could recognize words: _support centrum._ Shiro lightly tapped the blue icon and was immediately connected to an operator.

“ _You are calling technical support center. Wait for the operator.“_ young galra women appeared on the small of his screen.

“Aren’t you the operator?“ Shiro asked curiously, glaring at the screen where the bored woman in the black and white jumpsuit was sipping her coffee.

“ _I have a lunch break.“_ She replied with almost zero interest.

“Alright.“ Shiro just blinked at her, waiting for her to connect him with a working operator.

“ _But you know, its Alcoa, and she’s just coming from her lunch break. She’s a bit slow.“_

“Is there a chance someone can help me like right now?“ he asked hopefully.

What Shiro got was another annoyed look from the woman in the black and white jumpsuit. She put her cup away and lazily crossed her legs. While Shiro was looking at her from her screen, she was successfully avoiding his burning gaze.

“Look, can you help me? I am in a very tough situation. My systems are down. I need—“

“ _Just wait till I redirect your call to Alcoa.“_

Shiro clenched his fists at the sides of the tablet, “but you’re doing nothing!“

“ _I’m on my lunch break!“_ She barked at him.

“How long are you going to stare at the ceiling and calling it a lunch break?“

“ _Uhm,“_ she looked at the hours, “just for twenty-seven dobosh.“

“That’s more than a half of an hour! What if my oxygen is running out and I have only five minutes? You would still want to redirect me?“ He glared at her.

“I would redirect you to Kalkos. He’s a specialist for life support devices.“ She bent down under the table. For a while the screen was empty, and Shiro was only looking at the white wall behind her desk. When she finally appeared, she held a plate full of food.

“But your oxygen is not running out,“ she continued in the two minutes old conversation, “you have problems with the audio system.“

“And you are the specialist for the audio and transmitting system,“ Shiro replied irritated and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He should have been accustomed to bureaucracy while still living on the Earth, but he was never stuck up in the universe with an unfunctional transmitter and broken navigation. What the hell did Keith do to the ship? Shiro swore to the black heavens that when he came back, he will drag the two technicians through their tears.

 _“No, that’s Stewart.“_ She replied while eating green beans.

Shiro sucked the air harshly and ran his hand through his white bangs. “Then redirect me to Stewart and not to Alcoa.“

“ _But I can’t,“_ she mumbled with a full mouth, “ _I’m on my lunch break._ “

Shiro’s shoulders dropped, and with a sigh, he slid lower on his chair. What on earth did these people think? He would build an Ikea ship faster than these people could wake up from their delirium. Shiro spread his legs apart feeling like his bones turned into ashes, and only his tired muscles hold his body together. 

“Can you give me the number on Stewart?“ Shiro asked her nervously.

“ _Can’t you wait for twenty dobosh?“_  the jumpsuit lady glared at him.

Oh _yeah,_ she was _totally_ doing this on purpose. There had to be an intergalactic law telling that it’s illegal to let technician workers torture their desperate customers.

“No, I can’t. I’m flying across the universe with broken navigation!“ Shiro curled his fingers around the restrains of his chair.

 _“Have you tried to turn it off and on?”_ She asked while licking a sauce from her fingertips.

Shiro sighed and closed his eyes. Of course, she would ask this. Why not? She saw a human and thought that playing Chris O'Dowd will be within the range of acceptance.

“Yeah, I tried to turn it off and on.” He felt like crying or daying and maybe burning himself again.

“ _I can give you a number on special service in the space mall that is nearby you. I have your position, and the nearest space mall is one thousand kilometers away._ “

“I can’t proceed,“ Shiro rolled his eyes, “my navigation and transmitter are down.“

“ _Oh, right. Then just do nothing, keep your course. It’s right before your nose.“_  

“Alright.“ Shiro folded his arms on his abdomen and looked through the front window. “You could’ve told me earlier.“

“ _You called us for technical support. We’re not Google!“_ She gives him the last glare before she disconnected the call.

Shiro opened his mouth in shock, looking at the screen of the small tablet. How deep in the universe Google got? Was that a conspiracy against humanity? Or maybe Google was an evil alien company the whole time. Shiro shook his head. He took the tablet and leaned back in his chair. Tapping the small icons experimentally, Shiro tried to find an application that could connect him to the ship. If he could at least, see an option to choose a system language for better orientation, then maybe he could find a manual to the goddamn wreck he was piloting.

“Oh, Christ, why I didn’t listen to you Keith when you tried to teach me such useful thing as galra language.“ Shiro threw the tablet on the panel when his front window suddenly hit the lights of the space mall.

 

**

 

Annoyance held Shiro’s face captivating since he entered the Mall. Right beside the front door, on a large electronic screen where displayed four faces he knew by the heart. Above Keith’s head on the poster, a reward was listed. The bottom of the sign said it was _for keeping weapons._ Hunk’s poster looked like a valentine postcard covered in red hearts. Faces of Pidge and Lance were captured on one widescreen photography. Lance's mouth was wide open, and Pidge just sneezed. Coran’s one said he’s a pirate and not a good one. That was his crew – a bunch of criminals who were trying to save the universe.

In the hall, Shiro studied the map of the mall for good twenty-five minutes. The running and yelling kids around him kept distracting him. His eyes were like ping-pong balls, shooting glances at the kids from side to side until one of the brats stumbled on his untied shoe and fall flat on the face. Shiro reacted quickly. He helped the boy back on his feet assuring himself if the kid is alright.

“You have to be careful, kid.“ Shiro smiled and tied his shoe.

“I know you.“ he giggled.

Shiro’s look traveled from the bottom of kid’s shoe through his bruised knees and remained at the shirt with his face printed on it.

SHIRO THE HERO.

 

**

 

After one hour Shiro found a ship-service. Thirsty and hungry he leaned against the door and asked for a mechanic. Five women and two men instantly glued themselves to his sides like bees on flowers. Shiro tried to listen to their offers, but they kept mumbling and yelling through each other.

“You!“ he pointed at the short woman.

“Show me your ship, big boy.“

The enthusiastic woman dragged him down the corridor, by a shortcut for the Mall employers. When they arrived in the parking lot for the customers, Shiro pulled out his ticket and confused by the unknown surrounding he kept turning around looking for the sector 14-C.

“You’re cute,“ the mechanic lady stood on her toes to look at the ticket, “this way.“

Shiro had enough of maps, bureaucracies and long roads. He let the woman lead him. The worst was that his pockets were empty. At first, Shiro planed he would run away and pay later, but then he had to saw the five posters on the screen and die for the thousand time. _Wanted for keeping weapons._ What was Keith doing with weapons in a mall for god sake? The image couldn’t let go of him, and it even connected itself with the Norman Bates universe.

They arrived at Shiro’s ship after seven minutes. The walk was gross because everything smelled like burned oil and old heater. Shiro has been waiting outside while the woman checked the basic damage in the cockpit.

“I’ll get your ship to our workshop.“ She stepped outside, “The navigation is a piece of cake, but I’m afraid your transmitter is burned down, and the sound system is...“ she laughed in disbelief, “it doesn’t exist. Someone just ripped it off. I had to order a new one.“

“How long?“ he asked tiredly.

“Tomorrow evening.“

Shiro took a deep breath, “can I give a call from your office?“

“Sure.“

 

**

 

Shiro had been sitting in the small office in the workshop for a while when the young mechanic – Zoey brought him a drink and went back to work. He couldn’t decide if calling Keith was the best way how to deal with this situation. There would have been no problem to call him the second Shiro laid his foot in the mall, and leave the ship behind. The last thing he wanted was Keith worrying about him _again_. But the fact that Keith damaged the ship in action and the Blades didn't give a damn, and on top of that, they have even lied Shiro couldn’t let go. He wanted to hear the story about the mission where Keith got back to the station on a ship with enabled communication and navigation. Shiro wanted to know why the two technicians spitefully sent him across the solar's system in a damaged ship.

He could have died.

Shiro waited for the app to open and wrote down his login information. He leaned in his chair looking at Keith’s icon without a picture and waited for the server to connect his call. Soon Keith’s face popped up on the screen. His hair was messy, brushed on one side and bangs falling into his eyes.

“What are you doing?“ Shiro giggled.

“ _I... you...“_ Keith cleared his throat and yawned, _„I was sleeping.“_ He threw a small cushion across the bed.

“Did I just woke you up?“ Shiro caught himself moaning happily, “you are cute with your hair like this. I love the sidecut.“  Shiro’s loving smile spread across his face and left him shining like the Evening star.  

Keith rubbed his sleepy eyes and blinked _,_ “ _something happened? Aren’t you on your way home? What’s that noise?“_

“Oh, I’m at the workshop“  Shiro looked through the glass door at the short woman who was working on his ship, “I had problems with _your_ ship.“

“ _You should’ve called me,“_ Keith shrugged. “ _Wait, what?“_ Keith looked at the camera confused. “ _My ship? Did I give you a ship? When? I did?“_ He pointed to himself.

“Back at the Blade base, they gave me your old ship. Your old _cursed_ ship and proclaimed it fixed.“ Shiro’s level of annoyance raised above the roof of the Mall.

Keith’s mouth opened in a shock which has very quickly turned into a glaring and anger. He tilted his head looking at the ceiling, saying nothing, just plotting murder in his brain. Shiro watched him with a serious interest. The face of his lover has gone through most of the spectrum of emotion. Maybe it wasn’t that much of a good idea to tell his passionate lover that someone sat him down in the chair of a damaged ship.

“Babe, I’m fine.“ Shiro leaned closer to the screen. “I’m just hungry and have no money.“

“ _My old ship? You mean The Curse?”_ Keith said, deadly serious, “ _and they have...“_ He stood up from the bed throwing the tabled on the duvet, so the angle changed, but Shiro still could manage to see what was Keith doing.

“Keith before you do something that I won’t approve, could you please come and get me? I’m in the space mall. I’ll send you the coordinates. I hope your revenge can wait until you save me from socializing. Besides, I can’t wait to hear the whole story.“ Shiro laughed too excited for someone who just a few minutes earlier couldn’t even decide if calling Keith is a good idea.

Calling Keith, was _always_ a good idea.

Always.  

Keith changed into a white t-shirt and black jeans. Shiro watched how he fastened the leg holster for the Marmora knife around his right thigh. Then Keith was off the screen for a second, ramming his socks into black leather knee boots considering _later_ is better than never. He grabbed his shoes from the floor and snatched the tablet from the bed. Making sure he had everything he needs, Keith left barefoot for the hangar. 

“Did you know you’re a wanted man in the whole space mall chain for keeping weapons?“ Shiro tried his best not to start sulking. It was a long day for him. He thought that seeing Keith’s powerful thighs would help him improve the mood, but then Keith had to put on his leg holster and the galaxy spun again.

“ _It’s not a weapon it’s part of my character.“_ Keith pursed his lips disapprovingly.

“Yeah, you are my beloved blade. How can I be that stupid.“ Shiro chuckled.

“ _I received your coordinates. See you soon my beloved sheath.“_

Keith disconnected the call before Shiro’s words could get to him: _“Don’t forget to wear your boots!“_


	5. Electric skeletons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well,” Shiro smiled and turned to his lover, “isn't that a nice turning of events, love?”

Shiro tried to find a place he could stay at and get some sleep till Keith comes and saves him like a knight in the red armor. When he asked Zoey if there’s a facility providing accommodation services, she asked him if he’s that rich to buy a  _fucking_ room for a night.

Of course, he was not.

Zoey offered him a provisory bed in her office. The bed was hard, short and Shiro had a problem to find a good position for sleeping. Shiro rolled on his side and shut his eyes. He had to admit that he missed these ordinary things like a broken ship and military beds. No Zarkon, no war, just a space Mall that wanted Keith for keeping his character in the sheath.

The previous hours seemed almost unreal, almost as if nothing had ever happened. Shiro wasn’t sure if _tomorrow_ was still today or he already passed that time span. When the stormy waters finally have calmed down, and he lied his head to rest, everything – stood still and reminded him, that nothing, absolutely nothing has changed, and Keith is wearing the burned stigma on his shoulder like a saint who saved the _witch_ from an eternal fire in hell.

In the end, nothing about _today’s tomorrow_ was funny.

Except for Keith’s hair.

But even that was not funny but adorable. Shiro cursed himself and turned again on his back.

**

Keith studied his lover for some time. Even though Shiro’s arm was partly hidden under his head, he had a good angle to see the connection between the prosthetic and shoulder. It was a piece of artwork. Ignoring the stupid mechanics Keith almost missed Blades. They made some miracle on Shiro. He smiled and lightly brushed his fingers over the sensitive skin right above the prosthetic. Shiro shuddered.

“It’s only me.” Keith smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed. “How are you?”

Shiro blinked the tiredness away from his eyes, but the blur was still holding on his eyelashes like a phantom. He smiled when after a few seconds he recognized the face of his boyfriend.

“ _Hey._ ” Shiro smiled lovingly, his arm immediately went after Keith’s and held it gently.

Now Keith could see the whole work on Shiro’s arm. The metal wasn’t cold anymore, and even the color was looking better, almost _warm._ Keith held Shiro’s hand between his palms and kissed his fingertips.

“It looks amazing.” He praised the arm, “Is that a synthetic skin?”

“Yes. Though, I can’t fight with it like before…” Shiro’s smile faded, his eyes fixed on his arm.

“It doesn’t matter. You are not your arm, Shiro.”

Shiro held his eyes on his limb and felt ashamed for such shallow comment. He watched as his arm was absorbing the warmth of Keith’s palm. It felt as if he had his arm back. There were still joints visible on his elbow, but the color of the synthetic skin was surprisingly accurate. Shiro used Keith’s hold as a center of gravity and pulled himself up.

“How did you find me?” Shiro asked.

“Instinct.”

“Oh _come on._ ” Shiro chuckled.

“I’m telling you,” Keith leaned closer, “you told me you had to get the ship repair, so I searched for workshops. There are five workshops in this Mall. This one is the smallest one.”

“The woman is small,” Shiro replied.

Keith pursed his lips and immediately threw himself around Shiro’s neck. “I missed you.”

Shiro let their bodies hit the mattress. He smiled when Keith sneaked his hands under his shirt and cuddled against Shiro’s side. The man in his arms felt like the last piece of a puzzle. Shiro finally felt complete.

**

Shiro watched as Keith stretched his arms over his head with a sly smile. He was _showing off._ The man was looking for trouble from the Mall security. The story of Keith keeping his blade and asking about it in the store made Shiro laugh. A man with multiple hands couldn’t fight Keith who used only his right arm. He was sure the Mall had a security video locked safely in the vault.

“You looked way younger than now,” Shiro smiled and looked at the cook behind the counter in the restaurant.

“You always left me speechless by your compliments, Shiro.”

“Now, that was sarcasm.” Shiro laughed and dropped his napkin on his empty plate.

“We should sell the ship,” Keith crossed his arms over his chest.

“We don’t have money for a new ship, Keith.”

“You think I came here on foot?” Keith raised an eyebrow.

“Right.”

The silence has unfolded between them like a foil. Shiro looked at his lover when he wasn’t looking and for a second he managed to catch a dark spark in the lavender eyes. The dark scar on Keith’s shoulder curled and stretched over the biceps like a snake. It almost looked surreal; like a tattoo. Shiro couldn’t help but think about how the concept of new patterns began to control tier life. He wished the old skin had never been broken and words of anger had never been spoken aloud. The only thing that connected their old life with the present was an old, cursed ship which carried the sorrow and hardship of Keith.

“I don’t want to sell it.” Shiro leaned against his chair. He scratched the itching on the left side of his neck and looked at Keith.

“It’s a flying coffin, Shiro. They could’ve killed you!”

Though Keith protested and his eyes almost caused a fire on Shiro’s face, Shiro insisted that the ship is not as bad as it looks and Zoey’s sorcery will definitely work. The new ship could be used as spare parts for the Curse.

“I am gonna find a room for us,” Keith stood up, “this is bullshit.”

Shiro watched him as he walked out from the restaurant.

**

When Shiro soaked in the warm water in the bathtub, he called Keith his life savior. He slowly sank his prosthetic arm into the milky water and slowly exhaled into the steam. Life was bearable again and almost felt like home. In the small bedroom, he could hear Keith moving things.

Memories always hit Shiro on the most peaceful days, and when he tried to relax, and clean his mind. When the thoughts were suddenly gone, a whole new squad of demons settled down. Sometimes Shiro thought the space of one’s mind is like a whole universe. Though he could think only about one thing at a time, somewhere deep down, in the subconscious, hundreds of decision were already made. Shiro woke up with a feeling like he broke a life code, and his depression told him he _did that_ and he deserves to suffer.

Keith entered the bathroom with a soft closing of the door.

“Can we talk for a bit?” Keith sat on the floor and crossed his legs.

“Of course.”

Shiro folded his arms on the edge of the ceramic bathtub. When he smiled, Keith returned the smile, when he sighed, Keith tilted his head. No words, only Keith reading the body language like he actually created the signs of nervousness and pure love which could be shown only through eyes and holding hands.

“What would you say for a trip?”

“Only the two of us?” Shiro asked, suddenly too aware of his naked body so he pressed tightly to the warm ceramic.

“You, me and the Curse,” Keith nodded, “but only if you want. I am not pressuring you.”

“The Curse.”

“But if you’d ask me, I would say it’s the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

“I am aware.” Shiro laughed.

Keith wanted to stand up when Shiro cleared his throat and stretched out one of his arms. He touched Keith’s shoulder like a phantom and without words asked him to _stay._

“I had _a—“_ Shiro rubbed his fingers together, “that dream again.”

Sometimes Keith thought that human’s body is made of time and not energy, and the energy can be only stored in muscles made of time where past and future exist together. Shiro’s body fell into a time spiral where he was breathing the presence while the body remembered past and brain wanted a bright future. Dreams were complicated webs of lies and Shiro was losing the riddle game. When the dolphin dream came for the first time, Shiro thought he’s gone insane and just two weeks later the dream made him almost numb because since then he had dreamed it almost every night; the vivid illusion of Shiro killing dolphins in a shallow water.

“When?”

“Blade base.” Shiro sighed and fished out dirt from his eye.

“Unknown place, that’s common for having a bad dream,” Keith explained.

“I wasn’t killing them with a knife anymore,” Shiro almost whispered, “I used my Bayard.”

“Shiro, these are only dreams,” Keith assured him, “I know you would never hurt anyone. It’s your past self, trying to make up things with your present self. That’s how  we sometimes cope with our pain.”

Shiro frowned. It was the pain of his innocence he lost during his imprisoned days. Lying on the provisory bed in his dark cell, Shiro often thought if it’s possible to crawl away from his skin, to turn his skeleton into dust and cease to exist.

“I don’t feel like I know this pain,” Shiro explained, “it’s almost like it’s not _my_ body coping with it.”

“It’s alright,” Keith shushed him gently, “suppressed memories work like that.”

“How do you know?” Shiro redirected his gaze on Keith.

“Shiro, it’s _me._ ”

 _Well_ , that was, at some point an explanation Shiro didn’t need Keith to expand.

“Skeletons can’t talk,” Keith moved closer to the bathtub, “dead don’t talk.”

The gentle touch on Shiro’s cheek felt like a forbidden forgiveness. He closed his eye, relaxing his jaw. Shiro let Keith’s thumb slide between his lips. He didn’t want to remember anymore. Crawling into Keith seemed like a good idea, but Keith’s skin felt impossibly tight, breaking at some places. Shiro kissed the palm and closed his eyes.

“Did I,” Shiro opened his eyes tiredly, “cause all of this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Us being like _this?_ ”

Keith laid his hands gently into his lap looking into Shiro’s steel eyes.

“You talked about skeletons…” but it seemed like Keith was Shiro’s skeleton, and the more he tried to get rid of his past sins, the more Keith faded away.

“It’s almost like I burned that into you, like…” Shiro looked at the snake scar on Keith’s shoulder. He could swear the scar looked different the day he left.

“What?” Keith frowned. He put the random pieces together but the image was still cracked. “What are you saying?”

“I made you this way.”

Keith was left speechless.

“People call them skeletons, yes…” Shiro agreed, “but what I’ve got is a bunch of hungry zombies.”

 _Ah._ Keith ran his fingers through his messy hair. It took him aback only to think that Shiro blamed himself for his failures.

“Still—“ Keith tried to round up the correct words on his dry lips, “better than having a whole cemetery.” He stood up from the cold bathroom floor. “And still better than being one of them.”

“ _Yeah,”_ Shiro sighed, “you’re right.”

Shiro looked at his lover’s bare feet. It was, probably a bad habit, as Shiro called it every time, but something about Keith’s legs was astonishingly attractive. If someone asked him how much he loves Keith’s legs, he’s day; _that much I would let him kick my face._

“It’s almost like I should’ve been dead already.”

“Are you turning into a philosopher?” Keith sighed and grabbed a body sponge from the shelf.

“What would you do, if zombies tried to eat me away?” Shiro tried to ease the situation. He turned to face the white tiles.

“Which part?” Keith sank the sponge into the water and squeezed the air out. The bubbles tickled Shiro’s side.

“Why, does it matter?”

“Well, hair is also part of your body.”

“Would you eat your hair?” Shiro rolled his eyes.

“How do you know what zombies would eat?”

Shiro whimpered, annoyed by Keith’s inability to stay in a romantic line. He expected head rolling on the floor, bloodbaths of dead zombies, while Keith would be running after him and crying his name with the explosion in the background.

“I would never let anyone hurt you.” Keith gently scrubbed Shiro’s shoulder. He spread the foam on his wide back and massaged the sore muscles. “Not even a hair on your head.”

“It’s a promise?”

“It’s a swear.”

**

Keith tucked the duvet under his head while Shiro’s lips occupied his lower back with kisses. He painfully curled his fingers around the wrist of his right hand when Shiro spread his cheeks and hungrily sank his tongue into his hole. A galra swear left Keith’s lips and he bumped his hips up, feeling how Shiro’s nose dug into the soft meat of his ass.

“Christ” Keith tried to crawl away to get a chance to calm down but Shiro locked his hips into a powerful embrace of his hands.

“Why did I agree with _this…_ ” Keith moaned into the duvet and almost ripped the bedding at the edge of the bed.

“Because you love me,” Shiro murmured while licking the dark skin around Keith’s hole.

“Don’t talk to my ass.”

Shiro chuckled and squeezed the cheeks gently, massaging them, while observing by the saliva glistening hole.

“We have hours of fun waiting for us.” Gently, he poked the reddish hole with his index finger. “I love you.”

“God,” Keith buried his face into the duvet, “shut up and marry already.”

Shiro laughed and lovingly nosed one of Keith’s ass cheeks. He kissed the tender skin and traced the short scar with his pinky.

“Love you.”

Keith chuckled when he felt another kiss close to his opening, “Now I pronounce you husband and hole.”

**

Keith didn’t know how late it was or how early they woke up. He only knew that Shiro dressed him up into his white t-shirt and black jeans while bitching about how difficult it is to put him into the boots. But now, when he felt the hair falling into his eyes he was almost sure Shiro didn’t comb his hair and let him go like a brat into the Mall.

“I am tired, why we have to?” He scratches the undercut nervously, “also I am hungry.”

“We have to go down to the workshop to check out the Curse.” Shiro hurried him, “you look amazing, don’t worry about your fabulous hair, love.”

“Now, you’re lying.”

“Of course not.” He grabbed Keith’s hand leading him across the first floor of the Mall.

Keith turned his head to look at his reflection at the glass doors and annoyingly raised his eyebrow; “I look like a fucking fountain.”

“You do not.” Shiro laughed.

 **

Zoey announced that their ship is operational again, but warned them about the strange anomaly running in the electricity. Keith gave Shiro an annoying look which only confirmed he was right again. And if it was not enough he joined Zoey in swearing competition about why for god sake they would take apart a perfectly fine ship for reusable parts.

“Is he alright?” Shiro heard Zoey complaining.

“That ship has a personal value for us.” Keith calmed her down. “We’ll do as he said.”

“But,” Zoey put hands on her hips, “there’s one problem.”

“What problem?” Keith parroted her movements.

“It’s a Galra ship, and this one is an Altean ship, it’s not compatible.”

“Fuck.”

When Keith informed Shriro about their situation, he left out a long disappointed sigh. The Curse was waiting for them in the hangar while Zoey waited for them to collect that piece of garbage.

“You can store it,” Zoey said.

“How?”

“There’s a guy who stores old, broken or valuable ships.”

“We don’t have money for that.” Keith disagreed.

“Well then, there’s this planet, uh…” Zoey hopped on her stool and tapped the PC screen, “PYY. It’s an old Galra planet, a peaceful one.”

“No.” Keith rejected immediately.

“They can help fix the electricity problem?” Shiro asked excitedly.

“Yes.”

“Shiro, I said no!”

“Well,” Shiro smiled and turned to his lover, “isn't that a nice turning of events, love?”

_“No.”_


End file.
